The Engagement
by KricketWilliams
Summary: Morgan finally decides to take the plunge, and makes a request of his best friend. As usual, I don't own anything. Now Rated M, because you asked for it. :
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_AN: Dedicated to Crystalga, who sent me a PM request about Vegas and a wedding. That got me thinking about this story, which isn't along the same road at all, but still.... Thank you for making me think__!  
_

It was funny how two words could entirely change the foundation of life. Penelope Garcia knew that was true. She had been running along just fine; dating her computer geek boyfriend, hanging with her best friend during all the other moments of her life, working miracles daily with her babies for her team. She had no issues; all was good. Until those two words.

"I'm engaged."

Her best friend, Derek Morgan, was going to marry Tamara Snooty-Ass-Major-Clingy Barnes, and from the contented smile on his face, he was damned happy about it. She should be happy for him, she told herself. He deserved to be married to someone who seemed to need Derek as much as Tamara did.

Need. No one had ever needed Derek like Tamara did. She _really_ needed him; twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five. She was demanding of his time; Penelope barely saw him outside of work. Derek seemed to like a needy woman; he'd been with Tamara for six months. That was a near record for Morgan.

At first, she was so shocked, she could barely speak. She tried to smile, but she couldn't. She figured she looked like a fish out of water, her mouth flapping open and shut. She finally forced herself to snap out of it.

When she could form words, all she could say was, "Why?"

"I knew this wouldn't be easy to say," he said, sighing. "It's time. I'm going to be forty in two more months, I need to settle down. Prioritize my life, start a family, move out of bachelorhood." He shot her a grin. "Give my mom those grandbabies she's been asking for."

Spoken from his heart, she didn't doubt it was what he really wanted. It made sense; everyone needed to grow up some time in their lives.

In all honesty, she wanted that, too. At least, she thought she did. Kevin had asked her, but she could never make her self say _yes. _She'd tried, numerous times in fact, but it didn't feel right. Something in her gut rebelled against marrying Kevin Lynch.

"But..but you've only known Tamara six months," she said, starting to frown.

For some reason, she started to get really angry. This was ridiculous; nobody got married after just six months. What the hell was his damn rush now? He wasn't that old. Since when did Derek think he was decrepit?

She was grousing internally. This defied all logic. He had nothing in common with Tamara, absolutely nothing. She knew; he told her Tamara's likes and dislikes. Tamara liked the high society life of her country club. She liked yachting and wine tasting. That was not Derek. He liked beer, pizza, and football, like every other red blooded, blue-collared American. He didn't have to tell her his favorite things either; she already knew.

None of what he liked matched Tamara Barnes. She ate pizza with a knife and fork, for Pete's sake!

He shrugged. "She asked me; I said yes."

Pen's jaw dropped, and her eyes grew to round saucers in her head. "_She_ asked _you_?"

He grinned, shooting her his perfect white teeth. "Yeah. _She_ asked. It'll work. She's alright."

He sounded so peaceful, so at ease with his decision, it completely deflated the anger she was feeling. She felt like an awful friend, because more than anything, she wanted to try to talk him out of it. She thought it was because she really thought this was a bad idea. There was truth in that; Derek and Tamara seemed completely incompatible, and it _was_ very rushed.

A nagging part of her thought something completely different. Something was begging her to tell the truth to herself. It stood out above any other reason, and made her heart ache.

Because for an entire minute after he said he was engaged, her heart wanted to say, _Are you nuts? You can't do that! You're supposed to marry me.  
_  
She cringed. She'd always had picket fence fantasies about Derek, but she'd never really thought about it in a serious frame of mind. That didn't stop her from dreaming about him. Who wouldn't dream of marrying a gorgeous hunk like him?

She kicked herself. That was way more superficial than Derek deserved. He was so much more than just a hunk. He was good, kind, heroic, smart, funny. He was a caring protector; he made her feel whole when she was broken.

He was her best friend. She missed him, and they were just talking about him getting married. Tamara already limited the amount of time he had her; would she be worse when they were married? She couldn't… she..

"I'd like you to be in the wedding," he said, breaking her out of her thinking pattern. It was probably a good thing; the thoughts were overwhelming her.

She made a very sour face. She could not stand up with that woman. She could barely stomach being in the same room; standing up with her would mean supporting her, and she wouldn't do that.

She came up with a plausable excuse. "I don't want to be Tamara's bridesmaid. I've had enough of those ugly dresses to last a lifetime."

"Baby Girl, not that. I know it's unconventional, but I need this." Derek reached over and held her hand. "I want you to be the best woman."

It was amazing, the amount of warmth that radiated off his hand when he touched her. His hand made her tingle; it was uncanny. It happened every time he touched her, like he was powered by the sun.

"You're my best friend, and I'm closer to you than anyone in the world," he smiled softly. "I love you; I want you there."

She looked into the warm brown eyes of her best friend, thought about his request and what that said about how he felt about her. She knew, no matter how she felt inside, she had no choice on how she was going to respond.

"I'd be honored, Hot Stuff."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone, and for all the alerts! You all are fantastic. This ends up well, no worries. I'm a HEA girl, you know?...._

Penelope was looking at the color Tamara had chosen for the groomsmens' cummerbund. It was dove gray. Not the worst color in the world, but Pen was hoping for something brighter. She had to wear an evening gown in the same color. She was with Derek at the dress shop with a bunch of gowns in her size. Derek got to choose her dress. Tamara insisted on it. Since Penelope was a groomswoman, not a bridesmaid, she stated it was his responsibility, not hers.

Penelope said she'd wear whatever he wanted. He could pick it out of a book and give it to her, and she'd get it in her size. He could have her wear a female tux, she'd be fine. It was his wedding, and she was coming to grips with it, trying her best to be obliging.

Derek had different plans. "It's gotta be right for you, too, Baby Girl."

Derek always was fussy about his clothes. The man knew he was good looking, and he liked to dress the part. It made sense he'd be fussy about her clothes, too, especially on such an important day.

So, Penelope was stuck on a Saturday afternoon in a Quantico mall, trying on dresses. No woman in the world actually liked to try on bridal dresses. They were never the right size, they were uncomfortable, and they needed to be altered to look passable.

However, she would do it for her Hot Stuff. She hoped he realized how much she loved him.

"That is stunning," the matron helping her in the fitting room told her. The older woman was very good. She started by taking her measurements, then found every style that was available in dove gray.

Penelope raised a brow. "Are you sure?"

"You look very….sensual in that."

Pen really did like this particular dress. It was strapless, floor length, slight flair starting at the knee. It was adorable, but she was afraid it was overly sexy. It might not be bad on other women, but on Pen, it did something to her curves that made her look like a bombshell. Her breasts were on display, her waist pinched in. She highly doubted Tamara would want her standing up next to Derek wearing that dress.

She smiled at the lady. "This is probably not it, but I promised I'd show him every dress."

The matron looked disappointed, but then perked up. "Oh, a man gets to give his opinion? I know he'll _love_ this dress."

Penelope smiled at the woman and sashayed out of the dressing room.

Derek was leaning against the wall. When he turned to look at her, his mouth fell open for a second, then he closed it. He stood up, took a step, and tripped over his own feet.

She started to chuckle. She knew she looked sultry, but not quite that bad! "I know, honey," she said, tugging the bodice up. "Too much me, too little dress."

"Damn, girl," he said, just staring at her and her breasts. He was having a hell of a time forming words… and was he sweating?

The way he was looking at her she felt like she was nearly nude in the dress. It was low cut, but on her, it was almost obscene. With the amount of cleavage she was showing, any man worth his testosterone would look. And Derek had a plethora of testosterone.

She shrugged. "Hey, you said I had to show you."

"Oh, God, yes, show me," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. His eyes were still glued on her bosom.

She fought a snicker. If she shimmied right now, he'd probably pass out. "Derek?"

He met her eyes, then blushed. "Yes.... No.... Yes," he chuckled, then shook his head. "Yes, you're right." He swallowed hard. "That isn't it."

The matron came out of the dressing room. She held a little pink satin chair. "Sir, here is a seat while you wait for your lady."

The second and third dresses Penelope tried on did a lot of the same things to her breasts. It was frustrating; nothing seemed to cover quite right.

"Some women have it, some don't," the matron said in explanation. "You happen to have it."

Derek didn't gape quite as baldly as he did with the first dress, but he didn't look too happy. Instead, he looked really uncomfortable. It made Penelope sad; she didn't want him disgusted.

Trying the fourth one on, she found a similar problem, too. This one had a halter and was completely backless cut to her bottom, and very deep cut in the front. There were little cups to place her breasts into, but she overflowed them. To make matters worse, it was also fire engine red. There was no chance to wear a bra with that dress. Penelope looked on the bright side; she was happy her girls weren't too droopy.

"Your fiance is going to love this one," the matron said, smiling.

She shook her head. "He's not my fiance."

The matron gave a knowing look. "He will be soon, sweetie. He can barely keep his tongue inside his mouth when he sees you!"

Pen thought about correcting the woman, but couldn't do it. She noticed he looked uncomfortable with the first dress, like she embarassed him. However, the matron made it sound like he was panting after her. She didn't notice that, but she wasn't really looking. Instead, she was feeling sort of self conscious. She was going to have to pay closer attention this time!

She walked out and stood in front of Derek. His eyes came up, and she saw it that time. Unmistakable heat. His eyes swept over her slowly, stopping at her chest yet again. Her breasts reacted to his stare, her nipples raised, and he stared at those, too.

Her hands came up to cover her breasts. "Morgan!" she snapped.

She almost thought she'd imagined what she saw. His eyes met hers, and he immediately covered any evidence of heat he had.

"That one is beautiful, too," he said with a smile. "Are there any more?"

"There's one more," she said, turning to go with the matron. She was rather disappointed he hadn't picked one yet. She was hoping she didn't have to try on the last one. It was ugly, and shapeless, like a giant T-shirt made out of satin. The only word for it was dowdy. It certainly was not a bridesmaid dress. It had cap sleeves, was tea length, and had a high, conservative neckline.

She truly looked frumpy. Even the matron made a face.

"He'll never let you pick that one," she said. "That doesn't do you justice, honey. You have beautiful curves; your man will want you to show them off."

She gave up trying to tell the woman Derek wasn't her man. She kept saying it with a knowing, Mona Lisa smile. She refused to listen, but it was her only bad trait. Otherwise, the woman was really a doll.

"I've got too many curves," Pen said with a self-depreciating smirk, "but thank you anyway."

"Nonsense," she said with her little smile. The matron shook her head. "I've been fitting dresses like this for twenty-nine years; beauty comes in all sizes. I know what I see, dear."

The compliment made her smile. She wandered into the other room in the dress.

Derek looked up, blinked for a second, then smiled a radiant smile. "That's it. That one's perfect."

Penelope tried to hide the look of hurt she had on her face. He really thought frumpy and boxy was her style? It was a hideous dress; Derek had good taste, he had to know it was hideous.

"Are you sure?" the matron said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Positive," he said, continuing to smile at the woman. "Absolutely perfect."

The matron gave him a sad look, then shook her head.

Penelope felt the punch to her gut, then felt it subside. It was his damn wedding, he could choose whatever he wanted. However, she hoped he remembered paybacks are a bitch. When she married, she was making him man of honor… and he was going to wear _magenta_ from head to toe.

"Okay, Derek. Anything you want."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_AN: Thanks again for the reviews! You make me want to type and type and type...._

Penelope was still disappointed as hell in that ugly dress. Derek left to grab them a couple of drinks from the smoothie shop in the mall, leaving Pen and the much older matron alone to discuss alterations.

She snorted. Alterations on a sack. There wasn't any need to alter the stupid thing; no matter what she did, it would still be ugly. She opened her purse, getting ready to pay for the frock.

"This is a travesty, a terrible, terrible shame," the woman grumbled loudly to Penelope. "How he can see you shine in those other dresses and _still_ chose this one is beyond me! Is he blind, or just stupid?"

Penelope grinned, feeling much the same way about Derek at that moment. She started removing her Visa card.

"Is he usually a very poor dresser?" the woman asked, crinkling her brow. "He looked rather dashing, but looks can be deceiving."

Penelope laughed. "No. He's a snazzy dresser."

The woman scoffed. "Then I just can't see what the problem is."

"Maybe he was afraid I'd outshine the bride. Can't do that, now, can I?" she teased with a wink.

"That is another thing!" the woman exclaimed with a scowl. "That man doesn't have a clue what he wants. He obviously is taken with you."

"No," Penelope said. She shook her head. "I'm his best friend; that's all. We get that all the time, but there's nothing."

The woman raised her eyebrows pointedly at Penelope, high above the little bifocals on the end of her nose, then she looked back at the miserable dress. She picked it up with a shudder. "I am putting this with the other Barnes/Morgan dresses, then I am removing it from circulation! Come back if you can change his mind, dear. Have a good day."

Penelope giggled. The woman was truly wonderful; she felt like getting her number to hang out! "Good day."

The woman headed to the store room. Penelope was about to leave, but she heard the woman sigh heavily. She opened the door and stopped.

"I would have picked the first dress for you, my dear; it was stunning," she said with a heartbroken tone to her voice. "Simply and utterly stunning." Then she disappeared.

_Obviously D didn't think so,_ she thought, then sighed. It didn't do any good to complain about it. She was stuck with that homely thing. She left to go catch up with Morgan, who was still in line.

She needed to let it go. She really didn't want to be angry at Derek. She spent too little time with him now as is; she didn't want to spend what they had together arguing. Whatever the reason for that dumpy dress, he chose it. It was his wedding, it was his choice, after all.

She sneaked up behind him and poked his waist, making him jump.

He turned with a big grin. "You little shit. You get me every time."

She ignored him. She was going to do that to him forever; it was part of their history. She grinned impishly. "So, did ya get me my favorite?"

"One berry blast, minus the blackberries, coming up."

"Thanks, Hot Stuff." Her smile started to wane a little. She probably shouldn't call him that anymore. He was going to be a married man; she shouldn't call him lover nicknames, even if they were in jest.

He handed her the drink, took a straw, blew the wrapper at her, then put the straw into her drink. He looked at her face then. "You tired?"

She shrugged. "It's a lot of work putting on dresses."

"I'm glad all I have to do is put on a tux. That's nothing."

She scowled. "Men always have it easier. You don't even have to brush your hair!"

"Ah," he said, leaning forward to tug one of her curls. "You women look so much prettier in curls and dresses than we men do."

He gave her a winning smile and winked at her. She smiled back, until she started to think again. She couldn't help it. She had to say something.

"Speaking of dresses, Morgan… was that on really the nicest looking one on me?"

He choked a little on the sip he took. He coughed, then said, "It was nice."

She gave him a narrow eye. "That's not what I asked."

He sat back and ran a hand over his face. "No. However, it was the most appropriate."

"Why is it appropriate to make me look like someone's grandmother at your wedding?"

"You didn't, P," he said, beginning to scowl. "The other ones were too… well…. too much. Too revealing."

She glared at him. "Derek, you _censored_ my outfit?"

He took another swallow of his smoothie, then answered honestly, "Yes, I did."

Penelope gaped at him, then her mouth closed in a thin line. "What is the big deal? The matron told me the first dress is similar to the ones the other bridesmaids are wearing, except theirs are shorter."

"They don't have as much going on as you."

She sat back, hurt. He was two seconds from being doused with a smoothie. "Listen," she argued. "I may not be stick thin like Tamara's damn friends, but you shouldn't be embarrassed-"

"This has nothing to do with that," he interrupted, meeting her eyes.

In six years of friendship, Derek never mentioned that she was overweight, or anything less than perfect. In fact, it was the polar opposite. Derek always felt she was fine, just the way she was. She felt bad for thinking that, letting her own insecurity rise.

"I'm sorry, Derek," she said, but she still needed an important question answered, one that nagged on her. "What does it have to do with then?"

"Baby girl, you…it….," he sputtered, then sighed heavily. "It just didn't work. Trust me."

"Not good enough, Morgan," she said. She could tell he was hiding something, and she was getting very angry. "Spit it out."

He scowled again, then just said what he was thinking. "Look, I'm saving you from being mauled by every single guy at the wedding."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_AN:Thanks so much for the reviews, folks. You are seriously making my day. Wow! For that, here comes an afternoon update (In my part of the world, as least!)!...._

Derek knew it wasn't going to go well. He himself knew it was a ridiculous excuse and a stupid thing to say. He felt it in his gut the minute he told her that part of his reasoning she would react poorly. However, he didn't expect what happened next.

His best friend calmly stood up, grabbed her purse and her drink. Then she turned and spoke.

"You are extremely lucky you are not wearing this smoothie, Morgan."

One look at her, her face a study of complete rage barely tamped down, and he knew he needed to back peddle, quickly. "Baby Girl, I-"

"Don't you _dare_ Baby Girl me, you…. You _Judas_, you!" she spat. "Quite frankly, that reason plain old sucks, Morgan, and right now, you do, too!"

"P, I-"

"Of all the asinine, overprotective big brother things to-"

"Sweetheart, please," he started, but he didn't get far.

"What right do you have to choose who or what comes my way?" Her eyes were narrowed, sparking fire at him. She was absolutely furious. "What does it matter if a million men want me? If they want to drool, let them! I deserve that once in awhile. I'm attractive and sexy, Morgan; I should get to dress the part!"

She turned to walk away. He stood quickly, grabbing her arm. "Penelope-"

"I am going back to that dress shop, Derek, and I am getting that pretty dress. If you don't want to see me in it, you can kick me out of your wedding. You can kick me off your guest list and out of your life, if you so desire," she spoke low, nearly growling with intensity. "But if you think I am going to look like a dowdy, frumpy matron so you don't have to scare away men, you can go to hell."

She shook his arm off and stomped away.

That left him sitting where he was now, in an uncomfortable mall chair, with a watery melted smoothie for comfort. He was okay with that. He deserved it after what he tried to pull with the dresses.

After thinking he was an ass, a second thought hit his mind. He couldn't stop it; although there were more important things to think about, it just flooded his mind. Did she _really_ just say 'big brother'? Derek _never_, not in six years, ever felt like a _sibling _to Penelope. Far, far from it.

Damn, the woman had it going on! Even yelling at him, with the smoldering fire she had in her eyes, she was so beautiful. He always found her attractive, wanted her for a long time. In the beginning, she was his best friend; the first and only woman friend he ever had. That friendship mattered more to him than anything. He didn't think he should put the make on her. So they teased and had fun. So much fun, he didn't like being apart from her.

A little over two years ago, he fancied he was in love with her. She chose a different guy, so he put his feelings, and his libido, on hold for her.

She was happy with her Lynch, never said a damn thing negative about the dork. He held out some hope that his God-given solace would dump that man and come to him, but it never happened.

So, he moved on. He was pushing forty, it was time. Tamara was pretty, kind, warm hearted. She was a little stiff, but he made her have fun. They had a good time. She seemed to enjoy just about every outing they did together, and he did, too.

So she wasn't Penelope. No woman was. P was unique, one of a kind. He could handle that.

So what if they didn't share the same sense of humor like he did with Penelope. Tamara thought sexual jokes were vulgar. He learned long ago in their relationship not to tease her like he did P.

So she didn't have things in common with him like Penelope did. He shared everything with Penelope; he could continue doing the same thing after he married Tamara. He still shared his life with her, and Pen had Lynch for over two years. Nothing would change there.

Tamara would make a great wife. She was a good person, and he'd thought he'd loved her, or could easily grow to love her.

Then five feet, seven inches of blonde bombshell walked out of that dressing room, and he knew he was dead wrong. It was instant, immediate sexual attraction, and everything he was trying to hide about his best friend flew right out the window. His heart skipped beats and there was so much heat, directly centered at his groin.

The first dress… oh God, that first dress made him sweat. The second dress was almost as bad. Each dress made his cock strain an impossible extra inch. He never felt that way about Tamara. She turned him on, but she didn't make him her slave like Penelope just did.

He was grateful for the matron who brought him that little chair. It was easier to hide a rampant erection when he was sitting. The old biddy shot him a knowing look, like she knew he was uncomfortably hard. She actually glanced down, stared at the uncompromising bulge between his legs, then back up to his eyes, and _winked_ at him.

The matron was a letch and a sadist. She enjoyed seeing him in pain.

When Penelope came out in the last dress, he was almost relieved. She was still beautiful, she'd be gorgeous in a potato sack, but this was something he could deal with. It was tame. He could get by watching her with Lynch, not wanting to remove every tooth in that geek's mouth, if she wore that dress. He could get by, marrying his pretty bride, without staring embarrassingly with want at his best friend the entire time, if she wore that dress.

It was the coward's way out. He knew it. He also knew he should never be thinking about his best friend that way. It wasn't meant to be, he learned that a long time ago. She was happy with her damn Lynch, and he had a good woman who wanted him. For first time in years, he was with someone worthy of marrying. Tamara was a good woman. He was doing the right thing.

He just needed to remind himself about that another fifty times or so, and he could marry her in six weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_AN: Thanks again for the reviews, you all are fantastic..._

It took about three days of Derek eating major humble pie before Penelope would talk to him again. He didn't mind. He was a proud, alpha male, but he knew he was wrong. Unlike a lot of other men, Derek didn't mind admitting to being wrong and getting the punishment over with. It beat stewing in anger, trying to prove he was right.

"I know it wasn't your favorite," she said days later in the commissary. "But it will look good. I pretty much match the other bridesmaids; I won't stick out.

She was eating some sort of chicken and rice dish that was on sale today. He wasn't impressed with it. It was pale and had green flecks that could've been broccoli, asparagus, or some other green veggie. He truly couldn't tell. Whatever it was, it didn't add to the appeal of the cuisine. He had a burger, some soggy fries, and a can of chocolate pudding. Obviously, the food wasn't A-1 rated, but it would do in a pinch.

Today happened to be a pinch. He was exceptionally busy, it was wheels up in less than an hour. However, it was the first time he got to sit with his girl since the argument in the mall. That was over two weeks ago now. He talked to her on the phone, but never really in person. He had the feeling she was avoiding him.

"Baby, you're going to blow the other women out of the water," he said, grinning hugely. "I know you will."

She frowned, then arched a brow at him."That's a big change of tune," she said, taking a bite of the casserole.

He sighed heavily. "You gonna hold that against me for the rest of my life, woman? I made a damn mistake; I said I was sorry. Let it go."

"I just wanted to hear you say you were sorry in person," she said, a teasing little smile curving her lips. "That makes it soooo much better."

He was back to grinning. "Damn, girl, how I missed you!" He reached over to hold her hand.

They didn't say anything else. They just sat there, holding hands. Everyone looking on would probably think that it was odd, the way that they sat there in companionable silence, but they didn't care. It was what they needed, just to be by each other.

His warm palm against hers felt so good. She missed him so very much. Her heart ached with it. It was only four weeks until Derek's wedding. The countdown was on, and she felt worse each day that went by. He couldn't see it. She needed him in her life, so much. Probably more than needy ass Tamara ever would.

It was funny. Sitting there, holding Derek's hand, she felt more whole than she felt in the past two weeks. Being away from him didn't make it any easier. She thought if she distanced herself, it wouldn't feel quite as bad as it did. The way her heart ached, you'd think it was because she was losing her lover, not just because her best friend was getting married.

Her heart pinched again because she was being dishonest with it. She was rather angry at her heart. What good did it do to admit she was in love with him now? All it did was make her feel worse. She was in love with him for years, but she didn't think she ever stood a chance.

Not that she wasn't good looking. She knew she was. She just wasn't what Derek's usual type was. Tamara was just like everyone else he usually dated, except a lot more needy. And prissy. And rich. And she dressed more conservatively. And she was an elite class and proud of it.

Penelope was independent; she didn't have a needy, clingy bone in her body. She was blue collar, relaxed. She was the kind of girl to drink beers with and belch. She was absolutely nothing at all like the woman Derek was going to marry.

She just wished her heart would recognize that and stop aching so damn much.

"Hey!" John from processing came over. She released his hand, but Morgan kept holding on to hers.

John was a friend of Derek's. They played full court b-ball together on weekends. He also had the same player image Derek had.

_Used to have_, Penelope thought. _He's getting married, now_.

Derek gave John a warm grin. "Hey, John. What's up?"

"Big day's coming up soon," he said, grinning. Garcia almost laughed. All players had high wattage smiles.

"Yeah," he said, finally releasing Penelope's hand. "Less than a month."

"When's the bachelor party? You going to have a stripper?" John was nearly salivating at the thought. He took the chair next to Derek.

Morgan laughed and shook his head. "You're crazy, man. Besides, I don't think-"

"Oh, yes, you are having a bachelor party, Derek Morgan," Penelope said seriously. "I wouldn't be the best woman if I didn't throw one of those for you."

"You're gonna throw it? A woman… throwing a bachelor party," John scoffed, shaking his head. "That's going to be tame."

"Oh, my, my, handsome," she said, standing up, giving John her most sultry look. She ran her index finger up the front of his shirt, a coy little smile on her face. "You don't know me very well, do you?"

Both men stared at her, speechless.

She picked up her tray. "Next Saturday. My place. Invite who ever you want; there'll be room for everybody."

She walked away, her hips swaying.

Derek smiled. "What is going on in that crazy girl's mind?"

"I don't know her very well, but I want to," John was still watching Penelope's ass until she left through the double doors. "Oh, hell, yeah, baby, I want to."

Derek's smile vanished. "What do you mean?"

"She'd fit so nice in my lap, Morgan," he said, then gave him a smirk.

"She's taken, man," Derek said quickly. "She's not for you."

"That's all?" John smirked even more. "I like a challenge."

Derek shook his head. He tried putting a wedge between her and Lynch by flirting with her. It didn't work. "You can try, but you're not going to get anywhere."

"One look at_ little John_ in action Saturday night, and whoever is in the way will be forgotten."

His eyes narrowed. "What are your plans, John?"

"For her to be in my bed Saturday night," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "All night. Crying my name."

Derek saw red. His voice was harsh as he growled, "Keep your hands off of her. She's not like one of your usual girls."

"Hey calm down, okay? I'll back off." He laughed. "Man, you'd think I was hitting on Tamara with the way you're acting."

Derek stiffened and his face fell. Shit. He was doing it again. She wasn't his; she belonged to Lynch. He needed to keep that in mind and knock it the hell off.

"Hey, man," John said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "You okay?"

Derek swallowed a bitter lump. "Yeah."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_AN: This is a very long chapter, but there was seriously no good place to break it. So, forgive me, please! PS. Thanks, Nicky, for the Rat Pack info!_

Penelope panicked for about one second after her big speech in the commissary. Then she did what she was best at: hit her computers at a million miles an hour, researching the best bachelor party spots she could find. She was excited when a bunch of good ideas came her way.

Prentiss came in her office. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm planning Derek's bachelor party."

Emily looked at her questioningly. "Isn't that kind of weird for a woman to do?"

Pen shot her a look. "Not if she's the best man."

She raised her eyebrow. Emily was almost as good at doing that as Derek was. "You going to go with them?"

"Of course, gorgeous puss," she said, starting to explain. " I am going to be the sober person, so that everyone else has a blast and still gets home safely."

She despised drunk drivers. After her parents were killed by one, she swore she would never let anyone she knew drive drunk.

"Well, what are you thinking?" Prentiss was starting to get excited, looking at the things she had coming up on the screen. "Ooh! That looks like fun. I'd do that."

She found a fantastic company that rented out party buses, complete with a massive bar, stripper poles, the works. It was a bachelor party on wheels. They drove around for four hours, bringing wedding parties from stop to stop.

"That was my plan," she said with a devilish smile. " I checked their reservation listings, hacked in, and slotted myself in already."

"Oh, you're good," Emily said in awe.

She arched a brow this time. "Did you expect anything less from a Goddess?"

Prentiss bowed. "We're not worthy."

She grinned back at Emily. "Now I have to click to request which type of stripper I want." She was laughing outright. "I _never_ thought I'd have to say that!"

"Well, you know Morgan's type," she said. "That ought to be easy."

"Ooh!" Penelope squealed with delight. "Look! They have pictures. Check out Sugar DeVille. Who does she look like?"

Emily couldn't stop staring at the page. "I'm looking at Thor Vikingstad and his teeny leopard print thong. Oh, Garcia; get him on that bus for us!"

"Look at Sugar, Em," she repeated, smiling when Prentiss's mouth dropped. "Looks a lot like Tamara, doesn't she?"

"Pretty close to a dead ringer, except for the breasts. Tamara is kind of flat-chested."

Garcia's smile faded a little. Yet another thing she didn't have in common with Derek's fiancée. She didn't think he liked small breasts, but then again, she didn't think he'd marry someone so prissy, either.

"Well, she'll do." A few more clicks of her mouse, and the whole night was planned.

* * *

Rossi, Reid, Hotch, and Prentiss all joined Penelope on the Party Bus. Prentiss said she was coming along for moral support, but Pen knew it was curiosity killing the cat. She would've been the same way. She always wanted to know what it was like to be part of a bachelor party, although she thought she'd be the one jumping out of the cake!

Pen decided the whole thing was like a three ring circus, and she was the ringleader. She even wore a little jacket with a bowtie around her neck. About fifteen of Derek's friends hit the bus first. Everyone started drinking and laughing, the music was pumping and the bus was warming up to go. The last to arrive was Derek himself.

He shook his head. "This is crazy," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek, "but cute. Thanks, honey."

"Anything for you, hot stuff."

It was eight pm, the party was just getting started. Penelope was having fun herself, hosting and getting hit on shamelessly by the majority of Derek's friends. She thought they might not like a woman along for their party, but she was wrong. They couldn't get enough of her being around.

Prentiss was having the same "problem." She was surrounded by about five hunks, each offering to get her a new drink, massage her shoulders, basically fawning after her. She was laughing and having a fantastic time.

Rossi, Hotch and Morgan were all talking amongst themselves. Hotch wasn't drinking; he must be sober cab for the BAU team. Reid was looking at the bus itself, then at the people on the bus. Penelope could tell he was observing their behaviors. It was just the way Reid was.

He made his way over, a beer in his hand. "Amazing how we are socially tuned to 'party' when someone mentions the word." Reid was into scientist mode; it made P smile. "All you needed to say was _Welcome to the party bus. Drinks are in the back_, and this throng of people began to have fun."

"Are you having fun, Reid?" she asked, putting her arm around him. Reid was always kind of awkward in social situations; she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable.

"Want to ask me the same thing, angel?"

She turned. John from the commissary was smiling at her. He was obviously impressed at what she threw together.

"Ah, I'll let you two talk." Reid quickly walked away.

"Okay, I'll bite," she said, flirting a little with the handsome brunette. "Are you having fun?"

"I will be tonight," he said, his eyes growing hot as he leaned closer to her. "If I can talk you into dancing with me."

Penelope smiled. "Maybe. First stop is coming up."

"Maybe, hmmm?" he questioned huskily, a sexy smile on his face. "Maybe we can stay on the bus."

Before she had a chance to answer a negative to Mr. Suave, Derek's arm was around her, leading her off the bus. "Baby Girl, come on."

She turned and announced to the crowd to be back on the bus in an hour. She'd have the DJ announce the time to go.

By the time they reentered the bus, Derek was tipsy. Many people bought him drinks, to toast his wedding with him. Penelope watched him sitting next to Hotch, smiling and laughing.

They made it to the next stop. Derek would glance over once in awhile, smile at her, then go back to drinking whatever free drink was being forced on him. Then they boarded the bus again. Derek looked downright drunk now.

Hotch walked up to her after the bus got moving. "Hey, we're all going to leave after this. Prentiss is swaying on her feet, Rossi has indigestion, and Reid is exhausted."

"What about you, sir?"

He gave that tiny grin Hotch had when he was amused. "I didn't drink; I'm fine."

At the next stop, Emily was complaining as Hotch half dragged, half carried her off the bus.

"I don't want to go. I want to see the stripper. I never saw a real live woman stripper before. Something to experience, you know?" She was pouting; Penelope thought it was adorable.

Reid followed after, glassy eyed, looking like he needed his pillow more than anything on earth.

Rossi walked over to Penelope. He tried to talk but had to hold back a belch. "My ride is leaving." He started to sing in his decent baritone, "Come on and dance with me, and make romance with me…"

Dean Martin. She would've guessed he'd sing something by someone Italian.

As the team got off, Sugar Deville joined them. She came in, dressed in a trench coat. The minute the bus started to move, she dropped the coat, revealing a teeny, tiny thong bikini. The wolf whistles started along with definite stripper music. It had a raunchy beat, Penelope didn't know a song could sound quite that primal.

She moved to the back of the bus and leaned against the bar, exhausted. This was a lot of work; she almost felt like Reid did, and she didn't drink a damn thing. The bartender poured her a club soda with a twist, the same thing she drank the whole evening.

She closed her eyes for a minute, just to get her energy back.

"Hey."

She didn't need to open her eyes. She knew that voice anywhere, although it was a little slurred. She smiled at him. "Hi, Hot Stuff. Having fun?"

He grinned crookedly at her. "Hell, yeah, baby." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the lips, hard. He pulled away a few seconds later. "You?"

She was speechless for a second. First, he never kissed her on the lips before. Lots of other places, but never the lips. Second, her lips now tingled like fire. She was blaming the first part on him being drunk and the second on pure shock.

"Yes," she said, looking into his warm eyes. He kept staring at her, like she was the only thing he ever wanted to see.

"I'm glad."

She pulled out of his arms. "Like the stripper I got you?"

He frowned, reaching for her again. She stepped back, and he sank dejectedly on the bench. He sighed. "No hugs for your best friend. I can't even get a damn hug from you." He looked pleadingly at her. "I really want a hug."

She giggled and sat next to him. When he was drunk, he wanted to cuddle. It was an infamous thing with him, the twice a year he got hammered with her. He was a happy, silly drunk that liked to cuddle. She plopped on the bench next to him, and he pulled her to his side.

"That's better," he said, leaning over to kiss her again.

She moved away before he could do it. She didn't know what was up with him. He never did that before in the other times they were drunk. He was going to feel like hell in the morning, if he knew he kept trying to kiss her.

She blew it off. "Derek, you didn't answer. Did you like the stripper?"

He closed his eyes, leaned back, and shook his head. "She's not my type."

"Oh, really?" This piqued her curiosity. The woman was Tamara, spot on.

"Nope." He was adamant about it.

She arched a brow in confusion."Okay, then what is your type, Hot Stuff?"

"Redhead. Lots of red curly hair," he smiled dreamily. "Or blonde would do, with sexy, colorful streaks. Big brown eyes. Stacked…. Oh, fuck, yeah, she'd have to be stacked. Breasts that would seriously be more than a handful."

His eyes were still closed, that sensuous grin still gracing his face. His head was resting on the back of the bench, relaxing.

She shook her head. She thought he was teasing. She was going to tease him back, but he continued.

"Curves. She has to have curves a man could hold onto. Sweet round ass, long legs, and red lips. God, she has to have red lips that can tease me into distraction with the sexy things she says."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. His voice was deep, husky. "Know anyone like that?" 　  
　


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, folks. Don't want to keep everyone in suspense for too long there! Not certain if I will be able to post on Sunday. Will be out most of the day at a picnic with the in-laws... _

Penelope just blinked for a few moments after he said that statement. She was absolutely tongue-tied; she didn't have a clue what to say. The heat in his eyes was unmistakable and potent. It was unnerving. At that moment, he sat forward, reached for her, and pulled her into his arms.

She flattened her hands on his chest. "Derek, I-"

He didn't let her finish. He pressed her gently against the back of the bench, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her. It wasn't a hot, fast peck like earlier. This was a kiss from a man who was dying to kiss a woman. He was obviously starving for her, and he decided to make her his full meal. It was intense and strong, just like he was.

That was her last cognizant thought. Every other thought went out the window along with a lot of inhibitions. It was a dizzying rush of electric tension, followed by a warm wave of heat that pooled in her veins. She felt like she was unsteady, swaying, even though she was sitting.

God, could the man kiss! The pressure of his mouth caused her to lean back farther, and he followed her down with his body, pressing her deeper into the cushions. The hands that were on his chest stopped pushing him away. Instead, she reached her arms around his shoulders to hold on.

His mouth teased hers with trained expertise, urging her to open to his demands. She did so willingly, and his tongue explored the inside of her mouth. He stroked his tongue against hers, and red-hot heat exploded throughout her body. His taste was heady. There was the alcohol he'd drunk, but something else so sweet and good, she'd never had anything like it. She opened her mouth wider to taste more of him, offer more of herself.

He lowered his hands to her waist, then he slid them up to cup under her breasts as his lips and tongue continued to play with hers. She felt dizzy, drunk, throbbing, and on fire from his kisses; she didn't even have the strength to open her eyes. God, she wanted him to kiss her like this for-

"Oh, damn, Baby Girl….. yes," he murmured against her mouth, before moving to her neck.

The sound of his voice, slurred and thick, did not sound like the Morgan she knew. It broke her out of what was happening. He wasn't in his right mind at the moment. He was drunk as a skunk; he'd probably be embarrassed as hell if he ever found out about this.

It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss him. She knew they needed to kiss. They _really_ needed to kiss sometime soon, but not right now. Not while he was drunk and horny from being around strippers at his bachelor party. She didn't want that. She wanted him to be aware of what he was doing. She didn't want him to regret a second of being with her. More than anything, they needed to both be thinking to figure out what this was.

She slid out from under him. "Come on, honey. We're done."

He began to protest with a sizable pout, reaching out for her again. "Oh, come back. Your best friend needs to cuddle, P'nelope." He looked at her with the biggest, saddest, somewhat bloodshot eyes. "Please don't leave me….I love you."

That reeked of Jack Daniels talking; Morgan was never hyperemotional like that. She smiled. Poor Derek, he was going to have one hell of a headache in the morning!

"I love you, too, Hot Stuff. And I'm not going anywhere."

It was after midnight. The party bus was pulling back to her place. The designated drivers took the other revelers home. Penelope simply had Derek. His arm was around her shoulder, leaning heavily. She was walking slowly, counting out their footsteps. "Two more, Sugar, and you're in the door."

"That sounds so good, P. I like being your Sugar," he said, making it up the stairs.

"I like that, too, Derek."

She made it into the house with him, into his bedroom. She undid his shoes, and he sat on the edge of the bed, before he dragged his feet up into the bed.

"I can't talk you into staying with me, can I?" He looked so forlorn, she couldn't help but feel bad for him. "I really, really, _really_ need you."

She shook her head, with a wistful laugh. "Derek-"

"Not to do anything but hold you," he amended as quickly as he could for a drunk person.

She smiled and shook her head. "Not a good idea, sweet cheeks."

"I'd love to go to bed holding you in my arms, Penelope...it would be a dream come true," he said with a sigh, closing his eyes. "I've dreamt of that so many times, you know."

She stood there, shell-shocked. No, she didn't know, but she did now. Seems like she had a lot more in common with her Hot Stuff than she ever imagined. She had oodles of those dreams, too. She looked down where he was laying; he was sleeping already.

Her heart swelled as she pulled the blanket over him, and kissed his forehead. They needed to talk. If the man really wanted her like he obviously did tonight, they needed to give this a chance. No two people deserved a chance as much as they did. Tomorrow morning, they'd air this out.

She couldn't help but smile. If this feeling she had was right, she was wrong all these years. This night gave her so much hope. She needed to talk to him, tell him how she truly felt and get this out in the open, before he made the biggest mistake of their lives.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_AN: Thank you so much for the reviews. Home from the picnic, so here I go! By the way, don't forget to let me know M or T, we are approximately three chapters away (hee hee)...._

Penelope stood on his front step, carrying two lattes. It was pretty early still, about ten in the morning; she was sure he was going to need a latte. His head had to be pounding like a drum. Last night, Derek drank more than he ever did with her before. The free alcohol was flowing everywhere he turned. She was expecting that; it was the man's bachelor party after all.

She had a busy morning. The first thing she did when she woke up was call Kevin and end the lukewarm relationship she had with him. Kevin was a decent boyfriend, but there was no spark. She couldn't keep going on with him, even if Derek didn't want her. It wasn't fair to herself or to Kevin, either. Everyone deserved real passion and real love.

Next, she stopped for coffee at her favorite coffee spot. She got Derek's favorite and her favorite and drove to the park. When she was there, she said a quick prayer she was doing the right thing. She was scared to death. She tried to calm down completely before driving to Derek's.

She took a deep breath. She was so nervous, her hands were cold. This was it. She was going to ask him straight out how he felt about her. Yep. She was going to just put it out there plainly for the world to see. She loved him; she really loved him. She wanted to try a real relationship with him, and thought maybe he'd want to try with her, too.

She opened the door to his house like she always did, and walked in, still thinking to herself. Surely he had to feel the same way about her. He wanted her when his defenses were down, filled with dutch courage. He had to want-

"Hey," he said from the hallway, interrupting her thoughts. He was in his FBI sweatpants with his t- shirt in his hands. "One of those for me?"

It didn't matter how often she saw him half-dressed, every time it knocked her speechless. Lord, he was beautiful. She forced herself to stop drooling and answer. "Yes. Thought you could use it."

He pulled his shirt on while walking over to her. "Hell, yes. Thank you."

They walked over to the couch and sat down. For someone who probably didn't feel the best, he still looked really good. She wished she had that ability after a bender. She usually had to go into hiding for a couple of days before she was fit for human consumption.

She glanced over at him again, then looked at her cup. Every time she looked at him, her eyes went to his mouth. She couldn't help remembering his kiss and all the feelings that went along with it. She sighed. She had work to do, and she was going to do it.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. She wanted to kick herself. Of course he felt rotten.

"Better because you're here."

Her eyes grew wide. She didn't think he'd remember anything. "Really?"

He gave her a grin, then held up the coffee. "Of course. You brought me some joe. Life is immensely better with that."

Her heart sank. Stupid coffee. He was happy about the stupid coffee. She started to get doubts, but pressed on, because she decided she needed to do it. She was strong. She could do it. She'd just say it, baldly and bluntly….sort of.

Crap. She was feeling doubt hit her in intense waves. She really wished that didn't happen. Her hands were now ice cold and clammy, and all of her fierceness completely deserted her. She was going to have to go about this in a different, more roundabout way.

Derek was smiling at her in a questioning way. "What is going on in that brilliant mind of yours? You're looking right through me."

"You're the profiler; you figure it out," she said, teasing him back.

"Oooh… we're doing that, huh?" He brought a hand up to his chin, starting to study her. "You're nervous. You're biting your lip, then soothing the spot by licking it. Your knee is bouncing just a little bit. Ooh!" He grinned. "Now your eyes narrowed; you're getting pissed. Probably something this sexy and brilliant profiler just said to you bothered you…."

"Derek," she said, scowling at him. "We made a deal a long time ago that you wouldn't profile me."

"But I always profiled your dates, even when you told me not to," he said, smirking at her. He took a drink of his coffee. "Speaking of that, how is everything with ol' Lynch?"

"It's okay, I guess." She didn't want to tell him yet she dumped Kevin. It would bring up more questions.

An eyebrow went up. "You guess?"

Here it was; here was the "in" to what she wanted to say. She tried to be as nonchalant as she could, but it was tough. A lot was riding on this. She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Not a whole lot of chemistry there, you know."

"Really?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Yes," she said, her heart starting to pound just a little bit. "You know, the fireworks you want to see when you're kissing the right person. That passion, that _oomph_ everyone wants."

"Mmm hmm."

"You got that with Tamara?" She knew she might die right there if the answer was yes.

He looked like he was thinking. He had his hand on his chin. She would've thought he was seriously contemplating, but his eyes were twinkling. He flashed a grin at her. "I wouldn't say fireworks."

Her heart was beating triple time now. He didn't see fireworks with Tamara. She saw so many fireworks with him, it was a pure pyrotechnic display. And he was drunk! She thought about what he could do sober…

She was petrified; still, she needed to do this. "That kind of chemistry is really hard to find."

"Yes, it is." His eyes were still twinkling and he was still smiling.

She licked her lips again, and cursed herself for doing it. She knew he was watching her, he knew she was nervous. "Hot stuff, you know I love you."

"I love you, too."

She sighed; this was not going well. She continued, "People always say we have a lot of chemistry together."

"Mmm hmm," he answered with a murmur. "That we do, honey."

She took a deep breath. It was now or never. She would've smiled, if she wasn't so nervous. "I'm just going to say it, then, Morgan: I think we have so much chemistry together, fireworks with anyone else might be impossible."

He didn't say anything. He just looked at her, a little surprised.

She almost chickened out yet again, but she thought back to what he said last night and it gave her courage. This might be her only chance. She had to take it. "You kissed me last night, Derek. On the bus. When it happened, I saw fireworks.

She rattled on nervously. "Maybe it was a one time thing, a mistake or a fluke, but I've never had anything like that in my life. I don't think it is, a fluke I mean. I don't-"

"Penelope, sweet-"

She continued, interrupting him, not wanting him to stop her. She needed to finish, while she was on a roll, otherwise she would get up and run out the door. This was too important for her to do that. Their lives truly depended on it.

"I'm going to close my eyes and count to ten. If you want to find out even half as bad as I do if it was more than just a fluke, then kiss me." She smiled at him, gently, hopefully. "If not, I'll understand."

She closed her eyes immediately and started to count internally…_10…9..8_.

Her heart started to pound. What was taking him so long? Did she just make the biggest mistake in her life? _7…6….5_..Was he moving on with his life completely, wanting Tamara so much he didn't even want to take a chance on her?

_Please, God_, she prayed_. I made so many mistakes with him, please just let me have one more chance._  
_  
3….2….1_

No kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_AN: Thanks for reviewing, folks. I know, that was a tough ending, but remember... I am a happy ending girl! I will have to answer reviews after; having some issues with the site, but I wanted to get this out there..._

Penelope took an extra second to compose herself. She gambled and lost. She felt like the biggest fool on the planet. Now she knew the awful truth and could be done with dreaming about something with him. He was still her friend; she was a good friend, after all. He didn't deserve to lose his best friend, regardless of how her stupid heart felt. She needed to make this better.

She opened her eyes as quickly as she could, smiled and laughed. "Oh, goodness; temporary insanity there! Don't know what got into-"

"Wait a damn minute, woman," he said, stopping her from talking. "I have every intention of kissing the hell out of you.....again."

She turned pale. _Again? He remembered?_

She gasped as his arms went around her and pulled her close. She couldn't speak; her heart was going to explode, she knew it.

"I only want your eyes to be open, so you know exactly who you are kissing." He lowered his mouth close to hers; she could feel his warm breath against her lips as he said, "After all, Baby Girl; haven't we been blind long enough?"

He leaned forward just the slightest bit, giving her the touch of his lips against hers. Gently at first, light soft kisses, like he was exploring her lips. She was shivering, and goose bumps were scattered all over her arms, her neck, everywhere, from that tiny touch. His lips were firm, warm, and tasted a little like the coffee he'd drunk.

He lifted his head, then looked down at her. She didn't know what he was looking for; all she knew was her whole body was tingling with anticipation. He smiled at her, the sexiest little smile she'd ever seen, then lowered his head and really started to kiss her.

And with that, the fireworks began.

Derek brought his hands up to cup her face and brought his lips to hers. The kiss deepened immeasurably; he concentrated fully on her mouth and completely consumed her, his tongue delving inside to stroke hers intimately. He kissed her like he meant it, branding her as his and making all other kisses obsolete.

It was absolutely heady, beyond decadent, the coursing of emotion running through her. The tips of her breasts tightened, she learned how to breathe in tandem with him, and she could feel herself getting hotter, throbbing, just from his kiss. She wished he had done this years ago; she would've joined his harem for his kisses!

She heard a noise, a low, keening sound, and realized that it came from herself shortly thereafter. She didn't know she could sound like that; no other man had ever drawn that sound out of her. But she didn't have time to be embarrassed, didn't have time to think, all she could do was feel.

One of his hands left the tangle of her hair, caressing down her neck, her shoulder, around to the small of her back. He pressed her against him, guiding her deeper into his embrace as his mouth continued to work magic.

She brought her hand against the side of his neck, feeling the strong and steady beat of his pulse beneath her palm. His skin was mostly smooth and warm, with just the beginnings of the roughness of stubble. Her hand continued to explore, moving up to the back of his head to press him closer.

He leaned over her a little, the heavenly weight of his chest pressing her back into the cushions. She placed her arms around his shoulders, feeling the flexing of his muscles. His mouth continued to play with hers as she felt his hand move from behind her to her ribcage, stroking slowly, his fingertips splaying gently against her side.

A moan slipped through her lips again, the slow tingles and giddy warmth smoldering into a burning need. She'd never ached like this before in her life! She felt so weak and yet restless. His hand below her breast scorched her skin and felt feverishly hot. She arched against him, begging him for more.

A moment later, he slid his hand up the last crucial inches and cupped her breast. He circled his palm over the tip, causing her nipple to tighten and bead. She gasped against his mouth, breaking away with a shudder. It was almost too much sensation, what he was doing to her.

She was panting, and she felt his ragged breaths against her mouth, too. Slowly, her eyes fluttered opened. He was watching her intently, lacking his usual grin. His eyes were dark, nearly onyx in color. A grin spread across her face; it felt so very good to know she wasn't the only one affected by their kiss.

He also looked like he was warring with something in his mind, like he planned on doing something else, and had to fight himself not to. She fiercely wondered what that was. Obviously, his thinking won, because the expression he had was gone, and he was back to smiling gently at her. He leaned back to give her some distance, then shook his head, and leaned very close to her again.

"Yes, Baby Girl," he murmured, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. His thumb stroked along her lower lip and his eyes heated. "A whole hell of a lot of chemistry."

"Fireworks too?" she teased. She knew the answer to that.

His knowing half grin made her blush.

"Wrong question, Angel. What we should be asking is this," he said. He looked at her, all the teasing gone. "Now that we proved it's there, what are we going to do about it?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_AN: Thank you so much for the reviews, beautiful readers! You are all blowing my mind!! Makes me keep typing, typing, typing. And a special thanks to Harley and Jen for all their support...._

_AN2: Rated M won by a landslide. Coming next chapter..._

Derek was doing his best to hide his smile. She looked so cute, so hopeful, and yet, still nervous. He realized now he really shouldn't tease. Amazingly, the woman seriously had no clue how crazy in love he was with her. Her eyes reminded him of Bambi when he was first born; cautious, but excited, too.

He had to put her out of her misery. "Well, I know exactly what I am going to do."

She blinked. "What?"

"In fact, I already started this morning," he said, kissing the tip of her nose. "First thing I did when I woke up, I called Tamara and said I needed to end this."

"Oh?"

"It hit me then, I wasn't being fair, marrying another woman when I wanted you so badly." His eyes had so much heat in them, they nearly melted her.

She gave him a quavering smile, and her eyes were glossy. "That's a good thing."

"It certainly is. After last night... after kissing you and telling you how much I loved you-" He looked over at a gaping Penelope and nearly started laughing. "Oh, yes, I remembered, sweetheart."

She shut her open mouth, but still looked a little confused. "Why didn't you say something to tell me you remembered?"

He sighed. "Honey, you came in here looking so nervous, I thought you were upset at the whole thing. I lost a lot of inhibition and a lot of control last night-"

"That's a good thing, too," she interrupted with a wicked grin.

He smiled back and continued, "Then, when you did start saying what I wanted to hear, you wouldn't let me talk."

"I didn't know what you wanted, if it was just the alcohol talking, or if you remembered, or nerves, or something." She sighed heavily. "I didn't know if you really wanted me."

"Oh, Baby Girl," he said. "I have always wanted you. Damn, girl, how I've wanted you."

"I thought you did," she said, warily. "At least, you looked like you wanted me at the dress shop, really and truly, but then I wasn't sure. I seriously thought so, but then you picked that ugly dress-"

"Self preservation," he interrupted, flushing with color. "I need to be honest. I wanted you so badly after that first dress, I wanted to haul you over my shoulder and run away with you."

She smiled, more than a little shell-shocked. It was a terrible thing to do to her at the time, but it was mighty flattering now.

"Second thing I want you to know. I started thinking long before last night about being with you. I wanted that so badly, P. Last night just magnified it. The more I thought, the more I came up with the same conclusion: all I wanted was you." He held his arms out to her. "All I have ever wanted was you."

"Oh, Derek," she went back into the circle of his arms. "I was dying, thinking you'd be with her."

"I didn't think I stood a chance, either," he said, fiercely hugging her. "I thought you wanted Lynch."

She sighed. "We're both idiots. Seriously."

She was so matter-of-fact about it, he couldn't help but laugh. Shit, he'd been a blind fool for such a long time. Not anymore.

"Woman, we need to get this out in the open, make it crystal clear, and never have any doubts about it again." He cupped her face in his hands, gave her a quick kiss, then said, "I am in love with you. I have been in love with you most of my career at the BAU, and I want to spend my whole life with you."

She gave him a little kiss, too. "Awww, I love you, too. No doubts at all over here."

He gave her his smirk. "Better not have any doubts."

Soon, she lost her smile, then wrapped her arms around him tightly and buried her face in his chest. "My God, Derek, I almost lost you. I couldn't have lived without you."

He had to swallow a lump in his throat. He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head, contemplating. Then he put his hand under her chin and smiled at her. "You know what? I don't think that would've happened."

She scoffed. "Married to another woman... I would not have been welcomed, Hot Stuff."

"It wouldn't matter; I still would've found my way to you. You're a necessity to me, Penelope, like water and air." His expression was dead serious, but his eyes were warm. "I don't have these same feelings with anybody but you. You're the one person who keeps me sane, makes me smile, and warms my heart. I think it's destiny."

"Sweet Cheeks-"

"Obstacles like Lynch, or any woman I've ever dated, they never stopped how I've felt about you. I've never talked to anyone like I talk to you. The team, my family, I love them, but not like I love you." He stroked her cheek, her neck with his hand. "You are the one thing in life I absolutely need."

She smiled warmly at him, her heart in her eyes. "I feel lost without you, too, honey. And I think you're right; we would've ended up together, somehow." She grinned impishly at him. "But I'm really glad it was sooner rather than later!"

He laughed. "You're crazy, but I love you anyway."

She smiled. "I'm tired of wasting our time. We wasted too much time in this rat race, being scared and being stupid, don't you think?"

"That's true," he said, pulling her into his arms, " but now that we're racing together, we're finally at the starting line."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
_AN: Since I have cliffhangered so much, I decided to post this early as a present! Here it is, the spicy, rated M chapter, because really...it's needed! Thank you for the reviews, as always, will respond soon…._

Things moved rather quickly after Penelope and Derek had their big talk. Derek made a call to Tamara, then went to visit her to break things off. It went relatively smoothly; even Tamara admitted they were not the ideal couple, and once things were financially certain, she let go with minimal fuss.

After that, it was a lot like old times for Penelope and Derek. They spent just about every waking moment together, watching movies, laughing, flirting like crazy at work. They teased each other mercilessly, then added some very hot kisses. However, that's all that was added, so far.

It wasn't that Penelope didn't want more. She did. She wanted to make wild love with Derek. The first two weeks they were officially dating, he was called out of town. Now the last two weeks, although they worked sixteen hour days, they still got together after work each day.

Every night, she wore an uncomfortable but sexy bra and panties set over to his house. Every night, he would kiss her senseless, until she could barely walk, then send her home. It was a little baffling.

She tried blatant teasing to figure it out. "Hey Hot Stuff, are you going to ravage me anytime soon? I'm a girl scout; I believe in being prepared."

He would laugh, and kiss her, saying, "Silly girl."

But that was it.

In all honesty, she really, really, _really_ wanted him to ravage her. She was getting desperate.

However, it wasn't that Derek didn't want more, either. He did. Oh, God, did he want more! He was sick to death of going to bed after a very cold shower or the comfort of Rosy Palmer and her five friends. After the first sober kiss with her, he'd wanted her so badly, he had to fight stripping her naked and screwing the crap out of her in the middle of his floor. He had to concentrate seriously on not doing exactly that.

But for her, he wanted it to be right. He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted it to be the best experience of her life. They worked some lousy hours recently, and they didn't have time for what he wanted to do to her. Some rush job was not good enough for his first time with Penelope. He was going to take all night and worship her like she deserved to be worshiped.

She was his goddess, after all.

So he waited. He was a firm believer patience was a virtue, but it was getting damn old.

It was a Thursday night at around nine o'clock. Penelope was over at Derek's place after work. They made a quick pizza, and were now relaxing in front of the TV. It was a usual date for them. They'd eat, they'd watch TV, they'd kiss each other into oblivion. Penelope was waiting to go home, and Derek was waiting to go to bed, frustrated.

It was a mostly pleasant existence.

Currently, Penelope had control of the remote. She did the scissors, paper, rock thing with Derek and won that privilege. It was something they did before they were dating. Penelope was searching through channels and found a movie.

"Hey, that looks good. A detective show," she said.

He was coming out of the kitchen with a big bowl of popcorn. He handed it to her. "What's it called?"

"_The Big Easy_. It's from a few years back." She hit info on the remote and read the description. "I was ten when it came out!"

"My Baby Girl was a baby, then." He sat next to her and took a handful of popcorn. "I don't even remember hearing about this movie."

"Hush," she said, gently elbowing him. "We're getting into the plot now."

About a half hour into the movie, she realized this was not your average mystery flick. It was hot, damn hot. They never watched anything remotely sexual together before. She glanced at Derek, who was glued to the set. She looked back at the set. There was a particular scene happening with the lead homicide detective and the spunky young ADA. He was sliding his hand under her skirt.

She glanced back at Derek, who was looking at her. Her pulse was racing, her breath was coming faster.

At that point, Derek was done for. He didn't give a damn if it was a fucking Thursday, and they had to work the next day. He needed her, and he needed her now.

He took the popcorn bowl out of her hands and put it on the coffee table. His eyes were dark, hot. "Do you give a damn if we see the rest of this?"

She swallowed and shook her head. "I don't. Do you?"

"Hell, no."

That was all it took for Penelope, too. She launched herself over, kneeling between his legs on the couch, kissing him like she was starved for him. She cupped his head in her hands, thrusting her tongue in his mouth, tasting and delighting in his flavor. He matched each kiss with the same intensity, the same heat.

They made love.

His arms were still around her and they were both breathing heavily. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too, Hot Stuff," she said, kissing him softly. "And I was right."

"Yes, Baby, you were," he said, patting her bottom. "It was perfect… and beds are overrated."

**For More of this chapter, please see my profile!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12- The Epilogue Chapter

_AN: Thank you so much for coming along with me for this story. It was a blast to write. Thanks for the wonderful reviews; you are all so very kind. Hope to see you along on the next story!...._

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the minister asked, his tone reverent.

It didn't take long for the radiant bride to answer. She smiled up at her groom, who looked equally dashing in his tux, and answered, "I do."

"The rings, please," the minister asked.

The best man procured two beautiful rings, and handed them to the minister.

JJ turned to hand Penelope her large bouquet of roses and star caster lilies. Wearing that fantastic first dress from the bridal shop, Garcia felt almost as stunning as JJ was today. Almost. The bride was always the most beautiful.

Sitting in the third aisle back, Derek was silently disagreeing with what Penelope was thinking. There was no doubt the woman he loved was the most beautiful woman in the entire congregation, inside and out. That dress was stunning, but the ring on her left hand eclipsed the magnificence of it. With that ring, there was no doubting she was his.

They planned on getting married in early fall. JJ and Will had a quick discussion, and decided to have their wedding this July, a month after Derek turned forty. He was a little off target. He'd wanted to be married before the big four-oh, but now he didn't care. He was in love, and he was marrying the right woman. That mattered so much more than a stupid deadline.

The wedding was over, and soon they were at the reception. Dinner was served; Penelope sat at the main table, and Derek was waiting patiently for her. He couldn't wait until they could be together again. It had been three and a half hours already; way too long to be apart as far as he was concerned.

At last, Derek was holding his Baby Girl in his arms, swaying to the music. It was early in the evening; the DJ was playing mellow, big band songs for the older crowd. The strains of "Penny Serenade" were low and soft. He had his cheek resting against her temple.

"You know," he murmured, "that groomsman you had to walk down with was all over you."

Penelope giggled and looked into his eyes. "He was seventeen."

Derek arched a brown at her and smirked, "They learn young nowadays."

"That's just because you're feeling old at forty," she said, her eyes twinkling.

He winced. "Low blow, Baby Girl."

"Speaking of babies…."

He grinned, not too surprised by that announcement. As much as they made love, it was bound to happen. "Do we need to bump up our wedding date?"

"I might be a little bit thicker in the waist, but October should still work," she said.

Derek held her close again, dancing cheek to cheek. He whispered near her ear, "Did I tell you how beautiful you look in that dress?"

"I thought you didn't like this dress," she teased, her cheek still against his.

"Let me take you home," he muttered gruffly, "and I'll show you how much I like it."

"Ooh," she said, leaning back with a sultry smile. "Does that promise include kisses?"

"Complete with fireworks," he agreed, just before capturing her lips.


End file.
